


cruel fate

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Father/Son, Forbidden Love, Hurt No Comfort, Incest, Lots of Angst, M/M, Moral Dilemmas, NHEV, No Happy Ending Fest, Soulmates, age gap, father yifan, forbidden relationship, son junmyeon, they dont really do anything in case youre wondering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Yifan and Junmyeon were Soulmates. Destined to fall in love in every single life, for the universe had decided they could never separate. Like one heart beating in two chests. They have lived the lives of many. Found solace in each other as a street painter and his muse, found themselves as simple farmers living a long and happy life. Endured the hardships of their time, a royal and a commoner falling in love and defying their roles for love. They have even found their love on a battlefield, but nothing would prepare them when they were reborn as father and son.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31
Collections: No Happy Ending Fest - 2020





	cruel fate

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #:** Self-Prompt  
>  **Prompt:** -  
>  **Pairing/Main Character(s):** Yifan/Junmyeon  
>  **Side Characters(if any):** -  
>  **Word Count:** 6645  
>  **Warning(s)/Additional Tag(s):** forbidden relationship, angst, father yifan, son junmyeo, father/son, Incest, hurt no comfort, soulmates, forbidden love, moral dilemmas, there will be kissing and implied masturbation but nothing more  
>  **Author's note:** It's been so long. I am so happy I got to finish this. First of all I want to thank the mods for being so kind and hardworking. I always have a soft spot for NHE mods because they're the kindest ones, almost in spite of their theme. Thank you for keeping up with me, it means a lot. Anyways, I am so happy to be part of this. This idea is not 100% mine and I will credit my precious friend that helped me after reveals if they want it! But the moment I heard about the concept I was mesmerized and the idea just developed in my head. Also just for the sake of it, since I know Incest is a delicate theme, both are adults in this and there are no sexual relations... or any kind of satisfaction for that matter lol. Enjoy!

For the longest time, Yifan had felt a deep void in his chest. Like something was missing. He would feel love, he would feel happiness, but it never felt _true_. There was always something off, something still lost. After doing all the things a human was expected to, going to school, finishing his education, landing a successful job, marrying a smart and beautiful woman without ever feeling like it was the piece that was missing, he had accepted that this probably was how it was going to be for him. How his life was supposed to be lived. Always feeling unfulfilled. 

But the moment Junmyeon was born, he finally felt complete. There had been a special excitement building in his chest ever since he had learned of the pregnancy, that was normal for a father to be, right? He had never expected for something that could potentially do what nothing in his life had ever managed to achieve for him. So when he finally held his son in his arms, little limbs squirming and head resting peacefully against his chest, it finally felt _true_.

For all these years, he had just thought that being a father was exactly what it was, that he had missed. That his son would fulfill the hole in his chest. It took him almost two decades until he realized that it was not that simple. 

Because as time progressed, as Junmyeon grew from a curious toddler, to an intelligent but shy child to an introverted teenager until he was reaching adulthood at 18, there was a feeling at the back of Yifan’s mind that would often distress him. Disturb him even. The more Junmyeon looked like an adult, the less Yifan began to see him as his child. 

Within the first year of Junmyeon's life, his mother,Yifan's wife, had gotten ill and deteriorated quickly, leaving him a widower and single father in his early twenties. The dark reality behind it was something that Yifan would only realize much, much later.  
It had never been easy, but he had managed, a foreign force giving him the strength to push through to provide for his son. He worked long hours during the oddest times so he would be able to be there for Junmyeon throughout his life.  
They did well, Junmyeon grew up to be the loveliest child one could wish for. From the minute he was born, they had been inseparable, their love innocent. Yifan would feed him, would bathe him, change him, cuddle him at night. He would scold him if he had, too, cheer him up if Junmyeon had been sad. In turn, Junmyeon would make sure to make his father's life easier the older he got. As Junmyeon grew more and more independent as a teenager and Yifan got raised in ranks at his workplace, his son took on more responsibilities at their home. Yifan had made sure Junmyeon knew he did not need to do it, but his son had been adamant about it ever since. With his father being a single parent, he wanted to take away the workload he had to face and Junmyeon was more than capable of doing so, thus them falling into this unconventional routine. So Yifan would always come home to a freshly cooked dinner and a clean house, finding his son working on his school work or just writing. Junmyeon really wanted to become an author one day.

Given, it was not the most normal dynamic, but as their family was not traditionally complete, Junmyeon wanted to give back to his father that had always worked so hard throughout his life to make his son's life comfortable.  
Junmyeon had always looked up to his father that not only exceeded him in height, but also impressed him with his admirable work ethic and tenderness. His strong and hardworking father.

Sometimes Yifan would dream. Dreams about him and... someone that made the pictures as disturbing as they were beautiful. A brush scraping over canvas, loving eyes watching the masterpiece they were about to draw. Dark hair and full cheeks smiling at him.  
Or Yifan standing in a crop field to his waist, looking at those glowing cheek of the figure that was laughing breathily, almost buried into the crops to his neck.  
He heard screams and ammunition getting exchanged as he had only eyes for one person, dirt on his face, uniform on his body, they would crouch down in shelter as they held themselves.

Yifan would dream of foreign touches that felt so real, felt so close.  
The face he would see in his dreams was all too familiar, all too forbidden. He had thought them to be a one time thing at first, dreams had the tendency to be distorted and weird, sometimes even disturbing, right? But alas, the same dreams would follow him each and every night. He would dream of those scenarios over and over as if they were more like memories. Memories of himself and... a sin.

"Dad... would you mind... reading what I have written?" Junmyeon would ask one day, little stack of papers pressed against his small chest. Yifan looked up from the book in his hands.  
"Reading what.... you're stories?" He would ask, a bit surprised. Up until now Junmyeon had always been too shy and insecure about his works no matter how much Yifan had expressed his interest in his son's hobby. He figured he had not been ready yet so he had been patient, yet it surprised him that he would finally approach his father. So much loved crossed his chessed as the big eyes looked at him, quite nervously biting his lips. And Yifan just smiled and nodded, his voice warm as he put the book away.  
"Of course, Junmyeon. I would love to do so."

It was meaningful, their hands touching as Junmyeon reached over to hand him the papers. Yifan noticed the small hands next to his larger ones, Junmyeon had always been so much smaller to him. He would sometimes tease his little son, because he loved how he would pout at him, but also how he would secretly blush, cheeks red and little smile on his face when he thought Yifan would not see. After all, Junmyeon still liked to be babied, loved to be cared for by Yifan.

Like a shy little bunny, a comparison Yifan had always liked to use for his son, he would then run upstairs to his room, after he had given his father the papers and it had made the man laugh, his heart bursting with adoration.  
Yifan had to finish up some work first, something he thought to be annoying, for it kept him away from reading the lines his son had written. But the next two days were spent reading through the printed pages in his free time. 

_________

Junmyeon's writing style was a piece of art, something Yifan could never dream to do. He could not help but be impressed by his son’s skills. However, the things he read were hard for him to take in, for they were all so... familiar.  
He read about things that seemed so close to his memory, something he not thought to be possible.

He read of canvas getting filled, a painter that would paint his muse, their smiles competing with the sunlight that was unsuccessfully competing with their love.  
He read about two farmers living their own, simple life in the fields, chasing each other in the crops, their height difference so obvious in the golden fields, it looked like a fairytale.  
He read about lovers held at gunpoint on the dusty grounds of the battlefield, who managed to overcome everything.

Yifan could not remember to have ever read stories that were so beautifully written, so carefully thought out and typed down. He wanted to praise his son for his sheer talent, but instead, it weighed on his mind heavily, for everything he read sounded way too familiar. Way too intimate.

He contemplated for a long time, even the next day when back in his comfortable armchair in the living room, the sound of the television only a light buzzing as Junmyeon was sitting on the couch, watching a show and fiddling with his phone. They liked to spend their evenings like this, calm and quiet. Junmyeon could be bubbly and full of energy, but he also liked to spend time with his father like this, something Yifan had always cherished, for they both could appreciate the silence. They had always worked so well together. _Unusually well_ , Yifan sometimes thought to himself.

“Junmyeon.” Junmyeon was still occupied with his phone, probably deep in thoughts. He didn’t look up and hummed, Yifan wondered if his son even realized he was still scanning the papers he had given him the day before.  
“Where did you get all those ideas for your writing?” The younger stilled, phone lowered until it was left abandoned against the cushion of the sofa.  
“I…” He started, chewing on his lips, a blush creeping on his full cheeks and a glance that only lasted the blink of an eye, suddenly so shy. 

“I dreamed most of those things.” 

His round eyes would meet Yifan’s again and for a couple of moments the time seemed to be on pause, only for the two of them to look at each other, wondering what was happening. Yifan swallowed and nodded, the first to remove his eyes and look down at the printed papers full of Junmyeon’s writing. Full of Junmyeon’s dreams, the same ones he shared with his own father. 

“Do you not like them?” Junmyeon asked, suddenly looking so small and insecure, scared over what he might hear. Maybe his writing was not good? Maybe he… he knew?  
Yifan blinked at his son for a couple of seconds, only realizing then the anxious expression on Junmyeon’s face, scared of his father not liking what he had created.  
“No, I… I love it, Junmyeon. Your writing is very good.” He praised, eyes wandering down to the written lines that felt so familiar. “It feels so real.” 

It did not become easier for Yifan at that point. In fact, things only seemed to worsen. With Yifan in the loop about how they shared similar dreams, he would become more suspicious. Of everything. It 

Something had fundamentally shifted after this point. 

_________

Yifan had the comfort of working from home if he wished, which he took pleasure in doing. It not only erased the annoying work traffic every day, it also gave him the ability to do housework, something he was very adamant about. He knew that Junmyeon was always willing and eager to take the weight off him, but Yifan didn’t want it to interfere with his studies. Therefore, when Junmyeon had taken his exams and graduated, Yifan had done the great majority of the work while working from home, wanting his son to focus on the important things.  
Now that Junmyeon had graduated and enjoyed a couple months of freetime after he would start university, the habit of working from home had stayed. Only this time, Junmyeon was at home instead of in school. 

Yifan felt watched, it was not something that felt unpleasant, it was just something he noticed. Junmyeon always seemed to be there with him, wherever he was. He would even visit him in his study, something Junmyeon usually didn’t do, but with many more hours of free time he would find his son sitting there with him, on the big sofa right at the door. When Yifan asked, Junmyeon would say he just liked the atmosphere there and that it often helped him to come up with new ideas for his writing. A thought that disturbed Yifan a bit, especially because something inside of him _liked_ the answer.  
And, indeed, sometimes Yifan would listen to the soothing typing of a keyboard as Junmyeon sat on the plush leather, crossed legged and his laptop in his lap, deeply in thoughts. But when Yifan looked back down onto his own work he, again, felt watched.

Junmyeon wouldn’t always occupy himself with writing, his fingers not tapping, but sometimes he would just sit there, right where the window would gaze upon the sofa, so the afternoon sun would set on his small frame. A perfect place for a nap, Yifan had already found out years ago.

But now, his son seemed to appreciate the spot as well and he would find the younger sleeping, snoring softly as black strands would fall onto his face. It was then that Yifan was the one that watched. The sight so ethereal and perfect, he found himself unable to focus on the documents on his computer. He would often sit there and observe his son scrunching up his face for a bit, and Yifan found him to be beautiful. So, so beautiful. It often didn’t feel real that this was his own flesh and blood. He looked so different, he behaved so differently. He often thought Junmyeon was the mold of what Yifan wanted in a partner, so perfect. He had everything, he was everything. 

Yifan would lose himself in those thoughts, thinking of something so unspeakable, but in these moments he found himself lost, for his conscience was not able to reach him. All he was left to do was to wonder what Junmyeon was dreaming about at that moment. Was it something that Yifan had already seen, too? 

Watching Junmyeon sleep would soon become a habit, one that would sooth Yifan even on the most stressful workday. His son seemed to sense the effect he had on his father, for finding purchase in the study was now a routine, not just a random occurrence a couple times a week. It now was something they both had grown accustomed to, something they could not do without. Sometimes they would speak, Yifan asking about Junmyeon‘s soon-to-be departure to university. He had already gotten a place in a prestigious university and would soon move out to live on campus. It was something they both avoided to tackle.  
They would talk about whether Junmyeon had handed in all the needed papers to the university, or if he had purchased books he would need. But they would not talk about the separation that would soon take place. Junmyeon would leave for university and both would be alone, something that had never ever happened. Yifan could not barely remember his life before Junmyeon, it didn’t matter. Being his father had always been as fulfilling as something could be. Being together with his son was like breathing. So, it was an invisible weight on their shoulders, a looming threat over their heads they refused to talk about. Enjoying the silence together had always been their forte anyways.

Junmyeon‘s snoring was something Yifan found adorable on this particular Tuesday afternoon. Frustrated, Yifan closed his laptop. He had been waiting for an important email from a client, but it seemed as waiting for it would be unfruitful today. So he decided to take a break, there was no need just sitting aimlessly in front of his screen. Instead, his eyes wandered over to the sofa. Naturally, as if the small figure on the cushions was the natural gravitation point for Yifan‘s mind. The man found himself smiling, for Junmyeon looked so ethereal.

He knew he shouldn’t, but Yifan found himself getting up and moving to the sofa, sitting right beside Junmyeon. He brought an adequate amount of space between them, although something inside of him wanted to move much, much closer. He ignored it however, not wanting to have guilt rule his mind if he would give in to something inappropriate.

Up close Junmyeon was even prettier, he could make out the perfect complexion of his skin, so much paler than himself. The sunlight was giving him a temporary tan where it placed its rays, making his skin look golden. His body was still, his chest only moving slightly according to his even breathing. Eyes closed and long, black lashed pushed against his skin he looked so peaceful. How could Yifan not look? Not long to touch him, feel the soft skin under his fingertips. He wondered, as he took in the sleeping state of his son, what he was dreaming about. Was it something that Yifan had already seen?

And just like that, Yifan watching his son sleep up close had become a habit, too. He ignored the loud voice in his head that had screamed for his whole life whenever his mind was going into dangerous territory. It became easier and easier to just drown the voice in Junmyeon‘s even breathing as they only sat mere centimeters apart. Yifan could not word it, but Junmyeon‘s presence had a calming effect on him, even more so than usual. It was easy to just forget the stress at work or those worrying thoughts when he looked so pretty.  
Yifan found himself drowned in those feelings more and more. The soothing peace that was there whenever he would sit beside him. So, naturally, it became a spot for Yifan to drift into sleep, too. He never thought of it, but if there was someone to watch them, they would mistake them for lovers sleeping close.

The dreams became so much clearer, too. He was there, right with him. Their hands entangled and their lips meeting and all Yifan felt was peace.  
Sometimes he would drift in and out of sleep, usually he only granted himself a small power nap, therefore Junmyeon rarely awakened before him. It was those rare moments, though, that led them to their misery.

____

Junmyeon had always loved his father. Actually _loved_ him. He was sure of it. It was a blessing and a curse, for he had the privilege of being close to Yifan whenever he wished. But it also came with an invisible wall that was dividing them. An invisible wall that prevented Junmyeon from being truly happy in his life. He ached often, as if, in his mind, he was running and running against this wall. Bruises on his body from trying to overcome it. But there was no overcoming it.

He had learned quickly that a son could not love his father like that. He had learned that, in fact, he was cursed. Cursed with these recurring dreams. Dreams that so clearly pictured Yifan and him as lovers. Junmyeon had learned to love falling asleep, for it would grant him a reality that seemed to be forbidden. In his sleep he would find a door through that invisible wall.  
But while he loved the dreams and what they brought with him, he began to dislike the cruel reality when he was awake. He loved Yifan so dearly, sometimes so much that he felt angry. Angry because this world had been so unfair to him. Placing what he yearned so much for right before him but made it unreachable.  
He had always been a good son, though, it was just so easy forgetting the anger when Yifan was there. Sometimes Junmyeon would sit in his room and cry, cry to his heart‘s content, away from Yifan‘s eyes, for there was no way he could explain this pain.

For years he had thought to be alone with this, but the more he matured, the more he wondered. Those dreams that he loved to indulge so much in were so specific, always repeating. Like they were from a past life, they almost felt real. Like it was just a simple memory. They were so clear in his head that it was easy to write them down, they helped create his passion for writing. Writing about a life he could not have but still felt like his own.

It was then that Junmyeon had wondered if maybe Yifan had them, too. It took a while to gather the courage, but when he had finally asked his father to read what he had written, he had both anticipated and dreaded his words. He so desperately wanted to know. In his foolish teenage daydreams he had pictured Yifan confessing to him, but of course that did not turn out to be what had happened. 

Junmyeon opened his eyes, finding his father next to him on the couch, sleeping, lashes fluttering against his cheeks once in a while. His father was so handsome, so beautiful. Tall and gentle, he was just so perfect. Painfully perfect. 

„I really want to know.“ Junmyeon decided to speak loudly this time, knowing that his father wouldn’t hear him.  
„Do you have those dreams, too?“ Oh, how badly he wanted an answer.

Everything in Yifan was itching to give it to him, to scream loudly _Yes! Yes I see it, too._ But everything in him was tied, as it probably should be. But no matter how hard he tried to not give any reaction, the feelings inside of him were too much. Was it really true? His thoughts had become real.  
When Yifan opened his eyes, watching Junmyeon widen his own in shock, it was like it was not his son but a completely different human in front of him. 

It was probably foolish, but Junmyeon was young so he had every righ to be this way. He knew he probably only had this moment, this moment of consciousness to express his feelings, there was no way he could say anything. So in the form of the biggest sin, their lips met. They felt warm and wet and they had waited for each other so long. Junmyeon was delirious, finally, _finally_ he knew what it felt like. Heaven.

Yifan did not know how this could happen, barely woken up from his sleep, he felt his son‘s body pressed flush against his. His arms found its way around the small frame way too easily, as if they had just waited for this moment. A weak soul, Yifan let himself enjoy the kiss, the seal suddenly broken, and ignored the storms that were due to swallow them right after this.

They felt warm, their bodies molding into each other. For Junmyeon and Yifan to be lost, hugging each other, had always been normal, even into Junmyeon‘s adolescence. But this time, it was so different. But it felt like it should be like this, their hands already imprinted on each other.

There was no way Junmyeon was stronger than Yifan, for his frame lite and small, no match to his father, so it should have been easy to push his son away. But it just was not. Actually, it was the hardest thing ever, for everything inside of him was appalled by the thought of bringing any kind of distance between themselves. Their lips were hot against each other, but maybe it were just the tears that would run down Junmyeon’s cheeks as he tried to hold onto Yifan for as long as he could, kiss him for as long as he would be allowed to. It was longer than he had thought it would be, yet it was nowhere near long enough. 

Junmyeon was the first to speak, as Yifan was tongue tied. Simply staring at his son. Everything and nothing made sense at the same time.  
„You have them, too. Right? The dreams! That‘s why you were asking about them back then.“ Junmyeon said, words falling into each other as he was excited, adrenaline flowing through his veins at the revelation that was taking place. Unable to acknowledge his father‘s pained face, he looked at him, chest ready to burst.  
There were many things Yifan was capable of doing, even despicable things. But lying to his son was never among them. 

Yifan was still not able to answer. His mind still processing, it was as if the world had paused. All he could look at was Junmyeon, seeing how _perfect_ he was, how beautiful. He also saw just how painfully unaware he was. 

Junmyeon was so quick to act and speak, it surprised Yifan. But it made him realize how differently they had dealt with this situation. While Yifan had pushed away the desire that had slowly unraveled over the years, not even dared to allow himself these thoughts, Junmyeon had _embraced_ them. For all his life, he had allowed himself to love Yifan. 

He was aware it probably was because of their age, Junmyeon didn‘t seem to be mature enough yet to understand. He was an adult by law, but he would always be his child. But Yifan had already known a long time ago that the child he was seeing as fading away.

„Junmyeon... this is not right.“ Yifan broke the silence, cut it deeply with his words as it was making its way to pierce Junmyeon‘s chest.

Junmyeon did not know what he expected, his naive mind had profusely denied any thoughts that would hurt more than needed. In his head he and his father were soulmates, they were fated to be with each other so it left no room for being denied his wish. 

„W-what…? Why?“ He asked and it pained Yifan, for his voice sounded so broken. It also sounded genuine, he really did not understand the refusal. For Yifan, it was hard to understand, too. But he knew he needed to be responsible.  
„You feel it, too, right? I know you do.“ Junmyeon‘s tears had always been Yifan‘s nightmare, seeing him suffer broke Yifan and he closed his eyes for a moment to save himself from the pitiful sight to regain himself. 

„Junmyeon, I know it, too. We are bound by fate.“ It felt weird, speaking it out loud. 

„But, we are also bound by blood.“

Junmyeon gasped, wanting to argue with his father but Yifan spoke again.  
„I … I know you probably don‘t realize this, you‘re still so… young. There is no way this will work, Junmyeon.“

_________

Yifan had been right, Junmyeon did not realize. In fact, in some moments, he had felt like he had done his son wrong. Junmyeon had sat in his room and cried for so long, Yifan had become worried.  
At this point, nothing he did could be right, a thing he had realized way too late. Because for hours, days and weeks he would face the same situation whenever he tried to approach his son. Big tears rolling over Junmeon‘s eyes as he tried to get close to Yifan, until he would eventually give in and embrace him. Not kissing those pretty lips took every ounce of strength he had.

Junmyeon would cry and cry, looking so miserable and confused. It greatly mirrored what Yifan was feeling inside, too. 

“Why are you doing this? I know you want it, too. Why can’t we just be honest?” Junmyeon cried, little frame shaken up and Yifan did not know how to comfort him. Yifan did not know how to comfort his own son. Every touch felt too much and not enough at the same time. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Junmyeon.” He tried, and it only elicited another painful sob from his pitiful son.  
“And you think this is not gonna hurt me? It hurts me more than anything ever could.” 

“Not… having you hurts more than anything.”

His little hands curled against Yifan‘s chest, he did not want to let go. And Yifan didn‘t want it either.

The world was cruel. 

_________

It had always been a pain Yifan had learned to live with throughout the decades. The burning sensation inside of him never soothed, for it longed after something he would never be able to get. The taboo so obscene, Yifan barely let himself go so far as to properly _think_ those thoughts. It was when Junmyeon decided to only further the pain, something Yifan never thought of blaming him for, for his son probably must be in the same pain, surrounded by the same hell inside his head. 

Yifan did not know if it was immaturity or if Junmyeon had no idea how to cope properly. However, it did not matter, for Yifan never thought of blaming his son. It did not become easier though. Provoking his father had become a routine. Junmyeon‘s skin had always been pale and soft and he enjoyed showing it off to Yifan. Low necklines and shorts so revealing they invited Yifan to react to it.

And while Yifan could control his mind, he had no power over his body. It was the opposite, his body loved the milky skin, the creamy thighs and collarbones he just wanted to cover in kisses. Make them his. And Junmyeon was all too eager to obey. But instead of feeling Yifan‘s skin of his own, his hot lips on his small body, he only saw his back as the man fled the room. Distance had been the only way of resisting the sinful apple.  
Being alone in his room did not bring Yifan any relief, for it left him with a problem as his body was so easy to react to his enticing son. He felt disturbed but no matter how long he tried to ignore it, the hot sensation and his wandering thoughts would not cease. It was disturbing and shameful, but it felt so good. 

Afterwards, Yifan felt like crying. Hot tears brimming in his eyes as he realized his sinful behavior. Touching himself to the mental image of his son… it was just so wrong. Coming down from the high of the _pleasure_ felt like dying. No matter how many times he showered, the sin could not be washed from his body. Sometimes, Yifan wanted to die so it would be over. 

Sometimes he would hear Junmyeon as he crossed the door to his room. Stifled little moans as the younger was touching himself, face pressed into his sheets as his father‘s name washed over his lips in a wave of arousal. Yifan would find himself frozen in place as he listened to his whines, giving in to his burning desire, lusting after his father. His soulmate. Afterwards, he could listen to Junmyeon‘s cries, too. No matter how much he wanted it, how open he was about his desire towards his father, the feeling of guilt would always creep up. Would burn him alive as the shame consumed him. Yifan knew there was no way to soothe his son‘s pain. The red thread spun by fate was beginning to curl around their necks, taking away the air to breathe a normal life. Sometimes, Junmyeon wanted to die, too. 

Despite the clear shame his son was feeling whenever an act of sin was committed, his determination to truly be Yifan‘s soulmate stood unwaveringly for quite some time. It was painful and disturbing and it placed the house under a layer of silence as they had unlearned how to communicate with each other. 

He knew that Junmyeon was suffering ever since their painful revelations that cursed afternoon. It took time, so much time that both thought they were going insane. 

Sometimes they would ignore each other, simultaneously living beside each other as if they lived in different universes.  
Sometimes they would just be civil, an awful lot like strangers dancing around the elephant in the room. Those were the better days. He would catch Junmyeon staring at him multiple times a day, just how Yifan would do, too. The shared silence they used to enjoy now awkward and painful.  
They both began to dread and welcome the soon to be separation. 

They had drifted apart, yet they were tied together closer than ever. Every accidental touch was electrifying, it created a burning passion and an immense amount of shame. And while Yifan wanted to avoid the shame, Junmyeon wanted to feel the burning passion over and over. But even Junmyeon‘s spirit to fight would cease. He had simply no energy left.  
The closer his departure came, the more desperate he was becoming at the same time. Although after weeks of fights and sadness between those two, he had become a lot calmer. Instead of pushing his small body against his father‘s taller one in a haste of getting a kiss for as long as he was allowed to, he was not cautious. 

It was Junmyeon shuffling close on the couch, carefully wrapping his hands around Yifan‘s arm as he worked and lean against his shoulder. His father looked up from his files, a frightened look on his face, for he did not want to fight with his son _again_. Junmyeon could see it in his eyes, how tired his father had become, tired of holding back for the both of them. And Junmyeon felt bad, bad for not understanding his father, for not being able to be as mature and responsible as him.  
He had learned his behavior did not do anyone good. He did not want to hurt his father anymore. 

So he tried to be calm, go back to the usual, morally accepted, affections they had showed each other in the past. So as soon as Yifan understood this, the look of horror would cease and he would allow Junmyeon and himself the small peace.

But sometimes, Junmyeon just needed _something_ , something to hold on to. So when one night Yifan would find his son sleeping beside him, shyly placing one small hand on his large chest, he did not protest. It was easier at night. For the dreams were there anyways and they were always peaceful. It only seemed fitting that they would dream about their lives together. 

This was the only form of concession they both could agree on so it soon became a habit.

In a way, it was even more painful because it was neither here nor there. They loved each other‘s presence yet they could not bear to be in the same space. But it was not as draining as fighting or avoiding each other. After all, there was no way this would end well. 

_________

On their better days, when they were able to be around each other without breaking in shambles, they would sometimes talk about it. A rare occurrence however.  
„If we are fated to be with each other, then why is fate so cruel?“ A question Yifan never had an answer, too.  
But it only led him to many more questions that would reveal a crude reality.

Fate wanted them together, and the universe had their ways of doing things. It was not always kind, actually, it rarely was. They realized only a lot later. Yifan’s wife, Junmyeon’s mother, had been nothing but a vessel. The universe was selfish, therefore all she was in this world for was to become a mother and nothing else. The universe did not bother to give her any more purpose, so it was no coincidence that she died soon after Junmyeon‘s birth. As Yifan realized this, realized the lack of love he had left for a human he had known to love for such a long time, he felt so incredibly guilty.

There was no resolution, no Happy End. Not even a bad end. They knew it wasn‘t even the end, for they had to live on like this.  
As their tension had calmed, for both had been simply too weak for it, they had tried to at least pretend like it was back to normal. Not like there ever had been a true normal between them. They spent their days with smalltalk and the occasional rest together. Junmyeon was not coming to his study anymore and even though he was still writing, he would not show Yifan anymore. For Yifan, it felt like he had lost such an important part of themselves. He would still read through the stories he had every now and then, the printed papers frayed from the many times he had sorted through them. He allowed himself to slip away into another reality for a small moment, give into the what ifs that he had pushed away for so, so long. He would never tell Junmyeon about this.

When it was time to part, both standing in front of the dormitory that would become Junmyeon‘s home for the next few years to come, they did not know how to behave. They were silent for a while, just staring at each other as busy students and their parents were passing them to also move their child into their dorms. But Yifan and Junmyeon did not notice them, for at this moment they were only in their world. Their small moments where they did not try to hide the feelings in their eyes. 

Yifan so desperately wanted to kiss Junmyeon, to be honest, he did not want to let him go. But Yifan knew he could not be selfish, after all, he was _still_ his father. His duty was it to only do what was best for his son. Even if it meant letting him go. 

Their hands moved awkward, as if they had never hugged once in their life. Both of them tried to be careful, almost afraid that their hidden desire would take possession of their bodies. 

„See you soon, Junmyeon.“ Yifan‘s tone was shaky as he only looked straight over Junmyeon‘s head as his arms were pressing the small frame against his chest. 

„See you soon.“ Junmyeon hesitated as he took in his father‘s scent. He had not been this close to him in a while. Ever since….  
„ _I love you….. Dad._ “

Junmyeon felt his father swallow and take a deep breath, his arms around him shaking for a moment, pushing him closer.

“ _I love you, too._ “ 

_________

_See you soon_ turned out to be in the far distance of time. Neither of them could bear to make their first step. Junmyeon and Yifan would hold contact, just like Father and Son did as a family. They would talk about mundane things, Yifan’s work, Junmyeon settling into University life, his first exams, his first friends at the new place. However, neither of them would talk about the next time they would see each other, for it felt so incredibly dangerous to them. 

They occasionally mentioned the phrase _when we see each other_ but they never pulled it through. Weeks and months went by, holidays and birthdays spent alone. Slowly, their relationship became distant and the memories they had shared for Junmyeon‘s whole life became faint. Their hearts intertwining had only made them grow apart so much more than any distance could. 

They spent their days in agony, wondering if today was the day that had a solution. But the truth was, if they were to see each other again, the fire would ignite again and neither of them knew if they would be able to control themselves. They were too scared to try. 

So they lived their life beside each other, never together but always connected through their dreams. 

They tried to take it with pride. But even a broken man’s pride was exactly that. _Broken._ It remained their secret. No one was going to know about what fate had intended for them, but what morality was forbidding them.

Some days they found themselves stumbling on the same thoughts as they lived their lives in different places. _One day_ , they both happened to think. One day, maybe they could be lovers in another life. Maybe the next, or the one after that. It was a soothing thought for the blink of an eye, because both of them would always get pulled back into what was the reality they had actually had to live with.  
No matter how much their hearts wanted it, they could never be what was destined for them. Both filled with love that had been piling up since their many lives before, but in this life, they were not allowed to love.


End file.
